The Price of Wisdom II:

Yoshi barely stepped out of the way in time as a small herd of children burst of the door and nearly barreled into him. A woman's voice from within yelled out.

"And stay out!" He looked back up at the pet store sign, wondering again what he was doing here. An hour ago he'd been sitting on the floor of his tiny apartment, surrounded by mountains of boxes always teetering on the verge of crushing him, like some crazy hoarder. He was miserable and lonely, with his empty life in an apartment crammed to the brim with relics of a life he'd lost.

Then his eyes, landed on Shen's turtle tank with all its trappings and equipment intact within and he had a sudden mad longing for a pet. A turtle, just like Shen's Midori-chan. He needed some purpose beyond surviving and caring for another living creature seemed like just the thing. Especially if it was a living creature of the type Shen had loved.

The apartment wouldn't seem like such an empty shell with another life in it. A life that hadn't been shattered into splinters anyway. Lately, that's how he'd been referring to himself instead of Yoshi. Hamato Yoshi was the name of another man with a different life. A real life. Splinter would suit for what he had left. It seemed appropriate.

Now that he was here, he was second guessing himself. He might already own the set up for turtle care, but the savings he brought from Japan were nearly exhausted and working as an illegal day laborer wasn't exactly covering living expenses. Could he afford to feed a pet when he couldn't even afford to feed himself? The thought of returning alone to his empty apartment erased his doubt and spurred him into the building.

John Chin walked into the shady looking pet, not yet sure what he was going to get. Not really the best store, but it was close enough to his shop and he didn't really feel like traveling farther.

He sold traditional medicines and told fortunes in his Chinatown store and when one particularly needy client had opted to pay by unloading their old reptile habitat on him, he was suddenly entranced by the idea of how such a creature would liven up his place of business, which he supposed was also his home as he lived on the floor above.

Upon entering, he saw the middle aged proprietor talking to a Japanese man near the front of the store. He was about to go browsing when he saw the ghost a lovely woman with her hand on the man's shoulder, gesturing to the tank in front of him.

Normally he ignored ghosts, but this one was so sentient and full of love, it was hard to look away. She was caring for this man and he didn't even know it. For an instant, he almost decided to go over an enlighten him, but quickly shook off that idea. He knew from experience how that would go over and wasn't looking to ruin his or anyone else's day.

Still, he couldn't help but go over and see what they were looking at. With a gasp, he saw them. Four adorable baby turtles occupied the tank. The proprietor had just started to tell the man about them. Unable to stop himself, he listened.

"They just hatched a week ago."

"So young and they can already swim?"

"Turtles are born that way."

"Do you breed them here?"

"No. My idiot assistant didn't know how to sex turtles." The Japanese man looked at her in puzzlement and she laughed.

"No, I mean, he couldn't tell whether they were male or female and mixed them in a tank. The next thing I knew, I had nesting turtle mothers. These are all from the same clutch of eggs. See the one on the rock, watching all the others. He hatched first, followed shortly by that one, trying to push him off the rock. Next came that shy one in the corner. He's an escape artist if I ever saw one. And the playful one in the water is the youngest."

"All boys?"

"That's determined by the temperature of the eggs for reptiles, so the same clutch is typically all boys or all girls." The Japanese man nodded thoughtfully as he watched the tiny creatures, fascinated by them. John knew what he wanted now. It had to be one of these little turtles. The Japanese man was here first, so he'd pick from whatever was left over.

"How much are they?" She frowned.

"Well I'm not really supposed to sell them so small." John's heart sank.

"Why? It does not look like they have a parent they'd be separated from." She shook her head.

"Oh no. Turtles don't raise their offspring. They are born self-sufficient. It's just…" She looked at the Japanese man appraisingly.

"Do you live with any small children, elderly or with anyone especially sickly?" He shook his head.

"No. I am alone." John knew that wasn't strictly true, glancing back towards the affectionate ghost.

"Good. Each turtle is five dollars, cash only." He nodded, carefully gripping the edge of the tank.

"I'll take them all." John almost choked. How selfish could this man be? Well, he wouldn't be defeated that easily.

"Excuse me, but I would really like to buy one of them as well." They both spun around, startled by the sound of his voice. Now that he could see the man's eyes and how close to madness he seemed to be, he regretted his hasty words. Did it have something to do with the ghost? Maybe he did need the baby turtles more. The lady interrupted.

"Well, there is one more." They both glanced at her.

"There were two pregnant turtles, but that idiot didn't know how to care for them and lost most of the other clutch. Only one survived from that set. Needless to say, he doesn't work here anymore." John sighed in relief.

"I'll take him."

"Her actually. The other clutch was females."

"I'll take her then. And I also live alone." Grabbing a plastic tub, she went around a corner and quickly returned with a baby turtle, handing it to him. He couldn't help but stroke her tiny body. She was so beautiful.

"You're going to have to wash your hands." He jerked his hand back as he heard the lady speak while ladling the other turtles into another plastic bin.

"Huh?"

"You too, since you touched this habitat." She gestured to the other man.

"Turtles have salmonella in their intestinal tract. Well a lot of things do, even people. But I haven't had the time to keep the tanks as clean as I'd like, so they've been living a bit in their own waste. If you keep their habitats clean and wash your hands after handling them, it should be fine. And for their health and safety, you should probably wash your hands before handling them." She gave John a pointed look and he blushed.

"There's a bathroom in the back where you can wash up." He set is turtle on the counter by the register and followed her instructions with the other gentleman close behind and his ghost trailing after.

The pet shop owner watched them go and sighed as she finished retrieving the baby turtles. She knew it was illegal to sell them, but the law was to protecting, mostly kids, against salmonella infection and these guys didn't have any of the risk factors.

She thought she'd explained the safety habits well enough that it wouldn't be a problem and even if it was, there would be no record of the transaction. She didn't buy these turtles and was selling them for cash.

Besides, she really didn't have the time or space to care for them until they were big enough to sell and they were more of a risk here, where those brats kept coming into her shop when she was in the back and picking them up. No. Illegal or not, this was the right choice. It worked out best for everyone.

Yoshi gave his last twenty dollars to the store owner and left with his new pets. Although he had no clue what he or his new pets would eat tonight, he felt content. More so than he had in a long time.

He started the long trek back to his apartment, when a strange man in a business suit bumped into him and headed into a nearby alley. His instincts screamed at him that something was amiss. The dreary fog of his recent life wasn't enough to extinguish years of training.

Impulsively, he followed the man into the alley. The man was meeting with another completely identical man, who held some kind of canister with a glowing, blue-green substance in it. There was definitely something wrong with this situation.

He was too focused on them, an unacceptable mistake for someone of his skill, but he'd be the first to admit that he wasn't at his best. Carefully stepping forward, he disturbed a rat which thanked him by sinking its sharp jaws into his heel before scampering off. His cry alerted the men to his presence.

They talked so strange that he had to assume English was a second language to them, but if so why bother with it? They clearly were intent on eliminating him for observing him. A mistake on their part. Even if he could sense more approaching from behind him.

As they attacked, a part of him he thought dead sprang to life from dormancy. They were clearly shocked as he handily defeated them all. But during the fight, the canister had been launched into the air and shattered upon striking a fire escape, spewing its contents into the alley. There was no avoiding it. It landed all over Yoshi and his turtles. The moment it touched his skin, the pain was excruciating. He fell to the ground screaming, lost in a world of agony.

John let the Japanese man buy his pets first and leave before paying for his own purchase. He couldn't wait to get her back to the shop and set her up in her new home. He'd never had a pet before and felt as excited as a child.

As he walked back to his shop, making plans in his head, the sound of agonized screaming lured him to a nearby alley. What he saw shocked him enough to drop his bin. The Japanese man lay on the ground, covered in some glowing goo, curled up and screaming at the top of his lungs.

He needed to get help. Immediately. But he had the presence of mind to grab his bin and use it to scoop up his turtle, failing to notice the goo she'd touched, and set her against the alley wall by the dumpster.

Running out into the street calling for help, he found the denizens of New York surprisingly callous and unhelpful. It was a disturbingly long time before he managed to find a police officer who, having trouble understanding his panic-thickened accent, decided to hold him until he calmed down.

When he was finally released, humiliated and fuming, he decided to return to the alley himself and drag the man to the nearest store and demand that they call for an ambulance. But the man and his turtles were gone, along with any remnants of the goo. All that remained was some torn fragments of the man's clothes. What had happened?

A tiny mewing sound drew him over to the dumpster and he gasped. His turtle was the size of a human infant, too big for her tub and looking up at him with very human dark brown eyes. She was extraordinary.

He could hear people walking on the street and wonder of her was quickly replaced by fear for her. He grabbed the torn bits of clothing, wrapped her like a baby and hurried home, clutching his precious cargo to his chest.